The Chrel Deadfury chronicles
by ShadowStryker06
Summary: A flash fiction series about a Clan Eshin Assassin and his many adventures.
1. A fun fight

Isebrand Rottmann's body ached, pain throbbed inside and out, vision blurred and blurring more. His clothes painted red from the free-flowing blood that trickled from his lips and nose.

No matter how many punches he threw, the kicks he shot out, the attempts at tackling. All hitting the air instead of his smaller opponent.

The crowd's cheering began to fade away, Isebrand threw a left straight and felt another sharp blow impacting his chest.

The opponent voids his next attack and counter-attacks in full, trapping Isebrand's left arm and pulling him just that bit forward to return a descending elbow strike to the human's chest that knocked him near to the floor.

He's tired, too tired, but he tried one last time.

A big windup before launching a right cross.

Next thing Isebrand knows is that he's flat on his back, pain screaming from his liver and unable to take a proper breath due to the wind knocked out of him

Bruised, battered.

The human stared up at the victor, a Skaven clad in dark blue garments, tinted goggles hiding his eyes.

The Skaven made not a sound, turning away to push through the rambunctious crowd and exit out the Screaming Pony tavern.

There a hooded figure approached the Skaven, handing him a bag before taking off into the sunset hidden behind the forest growth.

The Skaven reached into the bag to find Warpstone tokens. 200.

The Skaven, Chrel Deadfury, cracked a rare smile and tied the bag of money to his waist before heading off.


	2. Regards

Yenol The Admired of Emynamel. A High Elf Noble living loft in a castle protected by his finest and loyal guards.

One would think that he would feel safe and sound on this starry night.

But he didn't.

Something off kept him awake in his moonlit room.

As if the walls itself grown eyes to spy upon him.

Yenol continued to lay in bed.

Staring from ceiling to window, to the creature in the far corner of the room and back to the-Yenol got up to his feet and went to the foot of the bed to draw his sword from its scabbard.

He pointed its blade at the supposed intruder and found nothing there.

Strange. Perhaps sleepiness was getting the best of him.

He turned to head to bed and ran into something when he tried to take his first step.

Yenoi glanced down into the eyeless visage of the creature.

He pointed sword's blade downwards, point aiming to pierce through this intruder and nearly shouted to sound an alarm.

A sharp pain rocketed through his heart before feeling numbness spreading through his body, his sword stopped on its own..no, restrained and pulled off-line by an armored tail grasping the high elf's wrist while another throe of pain shot through his throat, making him speak no more. Naught heard but the sound of panicked breathing.

Yenoi tried to move, he did, managing a weak trembling in the arms and legs before they ceased movement in their entirety.

His sword arm is released from the tail's grasp and the sword itself relinquished into the hands of the intruder who laid the weapon on the bed before its wielder joined its side.

The intruder then spoke.

A voice barely a whisper and as calm as the seas.

"Clan Eshin sends their regards."

Clan Eshin? He's never heard of such a clan.

The figure continued their speech.

"Skavendom wishes for your death-demise."

Skaven! Here!? If one is here, that means more are to follow soon Yenoi thinks.

"And death shall have no dominion. Dead man naked they shall be one With the man in the wind and the west moon; When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone," The Skaven recited.

A poem from a man-thing named Dylan Thomas. Something to quell Yenoi's nerves as he's being prepared.

"Though they go mad they shall be sane, Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;"

Yenol The Admired, laid in bed. Sword upon his chest, its hilt clutched with both hands and point pointing towards his feet. Skin cold. Eyes, nose, ears, mouth, blood ebbs out in steady streams.

"Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion."

Yenol felt no pain, no suffering, he didn't want to die but felt at ease. His vision blurring and darkening for his trip to Mirai.

The High Elf Noble took his last breath.

With that, the Skaven Assassin took the Elven blood and made the sign of the Horned Rat, and offered a prayer to him before the ratman felt the quakes and blasts of Infernal Bombs detonating and sounds of chaos ensuing when the Skaven began their attack soon thereafter.

The Assassin. Chrel Deadfury climbed out of the window, gazed up at the moon and the starry backdrop before making his way into the night.


End file.
